Guilty Pie
by GimmeBanjo
Summary: 3 year-old Charlotte really, really loves pie. Fluffy/angsty little ditty about pie and growing up in my own little AU


Title: Guilty Pie

Summary: 3 year-old Charlotte really, really loves pie. Fluffy/angsty little ditty about pie and growing up.

Disclaimer: House really wanted pie, so I let him have some.

* * *

_late 1980s  
_

House didn't want to be doing this, but it was the only way to quiet Charlotte's excited squeals after he had gotten off the phone with his mother.

"Pie. I like pie. Pie is yummy. Yummy, yummy pie." 3 year-old Charlotte sang as she danced around House's office at the Carrington-House residence.

"Shhh." House grumbled as he tried to read from a medical text book.

"No, Daddy!" Charlotte ran up to the side of his chair and placed her little hands on his arm. "PIE!"

"Are you going to help me make it?" He asked after a minute and her little head started nodding, curls flying everywhere. "You're not going to eat all the chocolate chips?" Her head changed directions. "You're going to make sure that I don't ruin it, right?"

"Daddy," She said with an exasperated sigh "You can't ruin pie!"

"You'd be surprised." He muttered as he pushed his chair back from his desk and Charlotte started skipping towards the kitchen.

"Pie. I like pie. Pie is yummy. Yummy, yummy pie." Charlotte sang again.

The song had become a constant reminder of last Christmas when they had gone to visit House's parents and Charlotte had tasted his mother's variation on Derby Pie. Christmas Day, she had composed the song after one bite and had sung it non-stop since then. Begrudgingly, House followed his daughter into the small kitchen where she had pulled in a chair from the dining room and was rummaging through the pantry.

"Do we need flour?" She asked professionally and House nodded his head. He grabbed the paper by the phone that held the recipe. "Chocolate chips, I know." She pulled them out and held them out for her father. "What else."

House rambled off the ingredients, only occasionally correcting her for pulling out salt instead of sugar or helping her find the bag of pecans. When she finished, she looked at House with a triumphant grin.

"So after we make it, are we just going to hold it in the oven with our hands?" House asked playfully

"No…" Charlotte looked concerned, then jumped off the chair and started digging around in the cabinets under the sink. She finally resurfaced holding a pie plate. "Pie. I like pie-"

"I get it." House cut her off and lifted her onto the counter.

They worked to line the pie plate with a crust, then started layering in chocolate and butterscotch chips. Charlotte happily munched on a few extra chips as she started placing pecans in the bottom of the pie, one by one.

In charge of the filling, House started stirring in the other ingredients. He went over to the cabinet above the fridge and opened the doors and hesitated as a bottle of bourbon stared back at him. _The alcohol bakes off._ He reminded himself. _And it really doesn't taste the same without it. _He opened the bottle and put a splash into the batter and snuck a swig for himself. After the bottle was returned to it's home above the fridge, House heard a buzzer go off in the background.

He turned around and saw that Charlotte had scooted her way across the counter and was now sitting by the microwave.

"What the-" House didn't know whether to yell or laugh as Charlotte pulled out the bag of the remaining chocolate chips which were now melted and running down her arms.

"Oops." Charlotte's face grimaced as she tried to lick up the chocolate river.

"Only you." He said with an amused tone as he nonchalantly dipped his hand in the open flour jar and threw it in her face. While she was distracted, he grabbed the bag from her hands and threw it in the sink. He surveyed the damage in the microwave. Chocolate had gotten everywhere.

While his back was turned, Charlotte scooted back across the counter and simultaneously saved her bag of chocolate and dipped her free hand in the flour. When he turned back around, Charlotte threw the flour at him, covering most of his torso. She giggled uncontrollably as she started licking the chocolate from her fingers.

"I heard the pie song," Charlotte's mother Sarah said as she started down the hall. Both House and Charlotte froze in horror. "Someone better be making-" She reached the doorway to the kitchen and she froze as well with a camera in her hand. "Pie."

"I think we've been caught." House leaned in a whispered conspiratorially

"Oops." Charlotte repeated as she continued to giggle and lick her fingers.

"Greg," Sarah said in a low, warning tone.

"It wasn't me." He said defensively.

"Charlotte, where did you get chocolate sauce." Sarah was also torn between laughter and yelling.

"It's not chocolate sauce, Mommy, it's chocolate moooosh." She scrunched her face up with a smile

"Don't look in the microwave." House warned as he took a step closer to Charlotte, trying to move her away from everything that could get messy. He didn't take into account that he could get messier.

In a blur of movement, she shoved her grubby hands into his face. He tried catching them, but she fell forward and he grabbed her before she tumbled to the ground. Using the opportunity, Charlotte smeared chocolate all over the front of House's shirt.

"Oh yeah?" House placed her back on the counter and picked up the bag of melted chocolate and poured some in his hand. He brought his hand so that the chocolate dangled perilously over her head.

"No!" She squealed as she tried to duck. House was faster and smeared chocolate all through her hair.

"Greg," Sarah whined from behind them. "It wasn't bath night."

"It is now." House laughed as Charlotte continued to attack him.

From behind them, a flash went off. They both stopped and stared at Sarah, waiting for her to blow.

"Out of my kitchen." She said intensely, yet calmly. "You." She pointed at Charlotte "Bathroom. You." She pointed at House "Just… make sure she doesn't get chocolate on the walls." She said with a sigh.

Charlotte slid off the counter with House's help and took off running out of the kitchen. House quickly followed hoping to avoid Sarah's evil glare. When he stepped into the hallway, he saw chocolatey handprints streaked down the long hall. At the end of the hall, in front of the bathroom, Charlotte was standing there with wide eyes.

"Sorry." She said quietly with a grin.

"Don't looks so guilty." House warned sarcastically "You're never going to get anywhere in this life."

"Guilty?" Charlotte repeated, rolling the new word around in her mouth

"Yeah, like you know you did something horrible and you're hoping no one else finds out."

"Like melting chocolate chips?"

"Guilty." He confirmed

"Like putting Mommy's keys in the fish bowl?"

"I'm assuming you're guilty." House nodded.

"Like really, really loving pie?"

"Is that horrible?" House asked as he followed Charlotte into the bathroom.

"No." She shook her head. "But I'm guilty! I'm guilty for pie!"

"Me too, kid." He said as he leaned over the tub and turned on the water. Behind him, Charlotte started automatically stripping off her dirty clothes.

"Thanks for making Guilty Pie with me and not reading." She scrunched up her face when he lifted her up and put her in the warm water. "Reading is boring."

"And Guilty Pie is not." He agreed

"Nothing is boring if you're here, Daddy!" She beamed up at him and House felt a little tug in his chest.

He frowned as he looked at Charlotte started putting too much shampoo in her little hand. Sarah had decided it was better to not tell Charlotte he was leaving, a decision that didn't sit right with House.

"And nothing is boring when you're here." He said after a moment and she looked up at him with her wide, clear blue eyes.

"We're pretty silly, aren't we Daddy?" She giggled as she started massaging the shampoo through her hair. It started falling into her eyes and House quickly wiped it away. _Thank God for No More Tears. _

"Yeah, we are."

"We're always going to be silly." She allowed House to start rinsing the shampoo

"Always." He laughed when she shook her head like a wet dog. "And we're clearly always going to be messy."

They finished the rest of her bath in silence and once he had taken her out and wrapped her in a towel, she darted out of the bathroom and scampered down the hall towards her room. After draining the bathtub and putting her clothes in the hamper, he entered the hallway and ran straight into Sarah.

"Sorry." She stepped back awkwardly

"My fault." He could see her glance back at the smudges Charlotte left on the wall. "I'll get that after she goes to bed."

"No, I'll get it. No biggie." Sarah looked up at him and tried to smile "Thanks, Greg. She has more fun with you."

"Yeah." He nodded and motioned her to pass.

"Greg?" Sarah asked cautiously "Are you getting cold feet?"

"Not about leaving _you_." He mocked as he squinted his eyes.

"She'll understand you aren't leaving her. In time." Sarah ignored House and continued softly, "She really loves you."

"I know." House said shortly and started walking down the hall to help Charlotte get into her pajamas. When he got in the room, Charlotte was standing in her footie pajamas, but hadn't zipped them up.

"I'm scared, Daddy." She said softly. Two nights ago, she had tried to zip them up herself and caught her skin in the zipper. House could still see the little scab above her belly button.

"You can do it." He encouraged as he picked up the discarded towel.

"I'll hurt me." She insisted

"Give it a try." Then he added, "I'm not always going to be able to zip up your pajamas."

"Why?" She looked at him with a look of pure horror

"Because you're supposed to be a big girl." He knelt down in front of her "And unless you want me following you to college to help you zip up zippers, you better figure this out."

She looked at him, questioning his reasoning then shrugged. She grabbed the zipper, sucked in her tummy, closed her eyes and ripped the zipper up quickly. When it reached the top, she let her breath out and smiled.

"Ta da!" She sang

"So what do you want tonight? Story? Song? Manhattan?" He asked as he pulled back her covers and she jumped in. He sat on the edge of her bed and smiled.

"No." She settled down on her pillow "I'm a big girl, remember? I can zip up my pajamas."

"So now that you have the ability to independently zip your pajamas, you're above bedtime stories?" He asked with an amused expression

"I'm a big girl." She repeated as she reached for her baby blanket and stuck her thumb in her mouth. "Stay." She muttered through her thumb when House started to get up.

"How long?"

"Forever?" She asked hopefully

"How about until you fall asleep."

"Ok." She nodded sleepily. "Can we have Guilty Pie for breakfast?"

"Sure." He shrugged. At this point, it didn't matter what he did. Sarah would get over it.

"Do you want to sleep in my bed tonight?" She asked softly. He gave her a questioning look and she elaborated. "You always sleep on the couch."

"Not always." He said awkwardly. He didn't think she had noticed.

"Uh huh." She said as she shifted under the covers. "I see you."

"Your mommy smells." He leaned in a whispered and Charlotte scrunched up her nose. "And the couch doesn't snore as loudly as she does."

"Daddy," Charlotte giggled and stated, "Couches don't snore!"

"I know! That's why I sleep on the couch."

"Ok," Charlotte accepted his answer and turned onto her side. Facing away from House, she said, "If the couch is snoring, you can come sleep with me."

"You're so generous." He laughed "Goodnight, Charlotte."

"Goodnight Daddy." She echoed with a yawn.

House stood up and walked to the door. In a swift movement, he raised his hand to flip off the light. He kept his hand there and he turned back and smiled as Charlotte flipped over again, her eyes already closed and her thumb secure in her mouth.

"Don't vilify me." He heard Sarah hiss from behind him.

"Yeah," He stepped out into the hallway and closed Charlotte's door. "You're right. You don't really need my help."

"Greg." That was all Sarah got out before House brushed by her and went into the kitchen. He looked at the half-finished pie and poured the filling into the waiting pie plate and threw it in the oven. Then he went to the sink and started soaping up the sponge.

"What are you doing?" Came the voice from behind him

"Dishes." He grumbled

"I guess the more appropriate question would have been why are you doing that?"

"Because they're here and I'm avoiding you."

"It must be bad if you're doing the dishes."

"Sarah!" He heard the amusement in her voice and it did not amuse him. "Let me do the damn dishes in peace!"

She shut her mouth, but she didn't move from the doorway. After a few minutes, she cleared her throat.

"What happened to us, Greg?"

House turned around and looked at Sarah. She was petite and graceful. She had loosely curled blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes that always seemed to be laughing at some private joke. Her mouth only knew two expressions: ecstatic or pissed off.

They met when they both first got to Michigan. Sarah wasn't his usual type, but she was exactly what he needed at the time; tough and tender. She was opinionated and willing to fight him for the slightest of details. She made being right look easy. He was so tired of trying to do things right and she seemed to know how to make all the decisions for him. Those decisions were usually right, which House grudgingly accepted. Like keeping the fetus. That was her idea and he was so happy it was her decision to make.

He looked at Sarah and tried to remember the last time he loved her. When did it die? Was it after Charlotte was born? Was it somehow connected to the move out of their tiny apartment and into the tiny house? House was usually the cut and run type, so why did he stay when he was getting nothing out of the relationship?

"You became a bitch." He answered after a few seconds.

"Well you're an asshole." She spat back

"Charlotte won the genetic lottery." He turned back to the dishes and kept washing.

There was more silence until he heard a door slam down the hall. He turned around and saw Sarah was no longer there. He turned off the water and dried his hands while looking at the pile of dishes left in the sink. No need to keep up the charade.

He trekked back into his office where he picked up the first medical journal he saw. He settled in the chair and kicked his legs up on the desk. He was still randomly flipping through it when he heard the buzzer go off in the kitchen. With a groan, he got up and went to go save the pie from a fiery death. Charlotte wouldn't appreciate burnt pie for breakfast.

Once he had pulled it out to cool, he went into the living room. House looked at the couch and without a second thought, he made his way down the hallway and rested his hand on the doorknob to Charlotte's room. With a deep breath, he pushed it open and entered into the darkness.

He crept across the room and threw one leg onto the bed and slid onto the bed so that Charlotte's back was parallel to his stomach. Instinctively, he put his arm around her and she pressed back into him and nestled her head into his shoulder. She murmured something indistinguishable through her thumb and House smiled.

"I'm going to have to go to Johns Hopkins so I can be a fancy doctor and pay for your braces." He said softly. He knew she was asleep, but he kept talking. "I wish you could come with me, but your mom doesn't want to leave what she thinks is comfortable. She's got friends here and she's finally going back to school so I guess I can't blame her." He swept aside a stray piece of hair that rested on her cheek. "She'd miss you too much if you came with me," He said thoughtfully "So you have to take care of her. Don't let her be right all of the time because if her head gets too big, you're going to have to move into a bigger house."

In her sleep, Charlotte nodded her head as if she was listening. She flipped back over and buried her face in his shoulder, breathing softly. At that moment, so much love welled up inside of him that he almost choked on it. He was guilty of only one thing at that moment: loving his daughter too much.

Guilty as Guilty Pie.


End file.
